The Case of the Russian Spy
by CloakedHestia
Summary: Betty and Henry solve another mystery in this film noir style story. A prequel to 'The Case of the Meade Estate'; this is based loosely on Petra-Gate.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Ugly Betty (or American film noir). I'm just a fan and I write for fun.

**Authors Notes**: Because writing the first one was so fun, and a certain writer encouraged me to try for a series, I wanted to apply my "fic noir" to the other times they've solved cases. (Sorry this one took me so long!) Anyway, this would be a prequel to 'The Case of the Meade Estate', and while it's not necessary to read the first fic to understand this one, well it would be nice if you did. Here's to this dynamic duo, and may they solve many other cases in the future (in a hilariously cute way, may I add).

A re-working of the Petra-Gate episode, with a some details and situations twisted around to make it more of a "mystery". Enjoy.

**The Case of the Russian Spy**

He wasn't your typical private eye and she wasn't your typical femme fatale but the duo worked so well together, you couldn't imagine a better team.

It had been a few months since he opened his little detective agency, not expecting the kind of people he'd meet and the kind of crimes he'd solve. About a month on the job, the quirky detective had found an equally compelling match in the plucky Betty Suarez. She worked for her semi-clueless but well meaning boss, Daniel Meade: fielding his calls, fetching him coffee and doing pretty much anything she was asked. But after his first real case, working with Betty no less, he realized that she was no ordinary secretary. Fiercely protective of her boss to the point where he had thought there was something going on between the two, Betty helped him solve the case and net himself a huge bonus - one he gladly split with her. He had offered her a tentative position as his partner, not as big a salary as she was making at the Meade Media Corporation, but she wouldn't have to fetch anyone coffee. He recalled how she smiled at him but refused to quit her job.

It didn't matter. She visited him during her free time and he made her a partner anyway.

Yes, Henry had helped out Daniel and the MMC on more than one occasion. At the moment, he was thinking about the Meades' extensive history and humble roots. The company has its fair share of rivals and enemies, all willing to do anything to bring down the company. It was good for Henry's business but not so good for the current head of the MMC, who try as he might, could not impress his father, Bradford Meade.

Young Bradford had started with a modest paper route and slowly climbed up the ladder at the local newspaper publisher. From delivery boy, to assistant-salesman, to editor and everything in between, he was a true David Sarnoff. The young Meade had an eye for business and a drive that often left more than a few in financial ruin. Although he stepped on some toes and several local business suffered at his hands, Meade Corp, eventually becoming the MMC, would not be as great as it is if it were not for Bradford Meade.

"... Do what you must to follow your dreams. Failure is not an option."

"Truly words to live by."

Henry looked up from his current reading material and saw his partner at the door, an odd look in her eye.

"You reading his autobiography again?"

Henry offered a slight smile, "The man _did_ achieve the American dream. Started with nothing and now rules the majority of the newspapers, radio stations, and TV channels in New York."

She rolled her eyes as walked into his office, coat in hand, "Yeah, and all he had to do to get there was roll over anyone and everyone who got in his way. God forbid some little newsstand refused to sell to him."

He put down his book and met her annoyed look with one of amusement, "But you work for Meade."

"I work for his son. Big difference. Believe me, Daniel and Mr. Bradford are nothing alike."

He nodded, willing to drop the argument. It wasn't the first time they butted heads. In fact he remembered when he first met her...

"Henry? What are you thinking about?"

"Hmm?" He shook his head and got up to put away his copy of _'Meade-ia: The True Story of A Man With A Dream', _then turned to address his partner.

"Betty, so far I've been high and dry on cases. Well, actually I've had a call here and there: a missing pet, missing clothes, missing Rembrandt print, not an original mind you, but a print! I feel like I'm running a lost and found here."

She smiled sympathetically, "You'll get something. Don't worry." She sat on the chair in front of his desk and leaned back casually, "So. How are you and that girl you've been seeing?"

"Charlotte?"

"Yeah," she said with suspiciously fake enthusiasm, "How is ole' Charlie?"

"Betty, you know she doesn't like to be called that."

"Well, 'Shar' isn't here. Or would you prefer 'Lottie'?"

He sat down behind his desk, feeling an argument coming, "I know you don't like her-"

"No, no. Why would you think that?"

"Well..."

"I mean just because she thought I was your secretary, and then after I told her I was your partner she wouldn't believe me..."

Henry opened his mouth to say something but Betty continued, "And just because she sells little rinky-dink pebble necklaces yet she has the nerve to call your comic book reading hobby "silly"? Or how she keeps calling your office every other day, possibly jamming up phone lines and leaving potential clients with busy signals; you know _that's_ why you don't have any cases!"

Henry sighed and looked at her. When he determined she had no more to say he tried to explain, "It's just been a few dates. Though I have to admit I think she likes the idea of dating a _detective_ more appealing than dating plain old me."

Betty just shrugged, "I wasn't going to bring that up but as long as you figured it out-"

Just then, the ringing phone saved Henry from their less-than-pleasant conversation. Maybe he'd get to solve a case about some missing trading cards. Or a missing sandwich. Whoopee.

"Hello? ...You're what?" He saw Betty mouthing "who is it" out of the corner of his eye but he turned away, "Okay, listen... no, no I can handle it... you don't need to bother the police with this... I'll be there soon... Yes of course, pro bono. Bye."

He hung up and caught his partner's sour look.

"Charlie?"

"Someone ransacked her store while she was out to lunch. Stole some of her best pieces, she said," he got up and headed for the door, looking back to see Betty firmly seated on her chair. He was a bit confused, "Aren't you coming? I mean, a case is a case, right?"

"You go ahead. If you need help on the missing rock collection just phone me later tonight and I'll mail her some shiny rocks from Central Park. I'll even throw in some dirt and twigs, _"pro bono"._"

He frowned but left. It was going to be one of those days.

Quickly punching in, Betty made her way to her small desk, relieving the temporary secretary of the phones. She glanced at the messages and quickly knocked on her boss' door. With a quick "come in" she stepped inside, notepad in hand, ready to leave her annoyance at her partner outside. She had a job to focus on.

"Good afternoon, Daniel."

"Oh, hello Betty. Any messages?"

She looked over her notepad, "Yes it seems your father called about the channel 2 interview you're supposed to be doing later this evening. You'll be on the same talk show as _the president_," she said excitedly.

"Anything else?"

"Oh yeah. Patricia called."

His eyes widened, "What did she want?"

"She just said she had a great time last night and wanted to go back to the little Italian place sometime."

"Anything else? How was her tone? Were those her exact words?"

"Daniel," Betty couldn't help admonish, "I just gave you news about you possibly meeting the president of the United States and all you care about is your girlfriend? She _just_ said she had a nice time. What are you so jumpy about?"

Daniel frowned, "Jumpy? Who's jumpy? I'm not jumpy."

"I know you keep saying nothing's wrong but... I wouldn't judge you if there's something going on with her. Maybe I can help."

He shook his head slowly, "No, thank you. That's all. You can, uh, take your break now if you want."

"I just came back from my break."

"Well, take another one. You deserve it. Good bye," he leaned back into his chair, watching her pointedly until she left his office and shut the door.

With nothing more to do, the confused assistant walked to the elevator and hit the 'down' button. As she waited, she took a look around the floor. The '_tap tap tap_'of the typewriters and the murmurs of the typists temporarily taking her mind off her boss. She wanted to be a writer someday, and while she despised the elder Meade's bullying tactics, there was some reasoning and good advice in his autobiography. She would do just as Bradford Meade; work hard and make her way up the ladder from secretary to head of the writing staff.

On her way down to the lobby, she reflected on one of the highlights of working at Meade; meeting the fascinating detective Henry. While she didn't immediately dislike him – despite their first meeting being a sort of misunderstanding – she hadn't expected to get along with him so well, including becoming friends with him within a day. And she had Daniel to thank for that.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, she spotted Patricia, the newest arm candy to notorious bachelor Daniel Meade. This one, however, had stayed around much longer than the others. Over the past few weeks Patricia had Daniel giving her virtually anything she wanted. Little demands ballooned quickly and before she knew it, Betty's boss was giving her jewelry and cash every day. She couldn't imagine their "relationship" was good enough to warrant such a generous reaction from him. Patricia must've been in her early twenties; she barely said anything to Betty when they first met and that was one of the first things that got Betty suspicious.

In any case, the young blue-eyed blonde had a perfect figure that any proud woman would show off – so why was she wearing a large trench coat and sunglasses in the lobby?

Slowing down her pace, Betty looked before making a beeline for the women's restroom. The young woman seemed to be waiting for someone. Betty, peeking out from the restroom, waited along with her. Five minutes passed before another blonde woman, much older than Patricia, stepped inside the building. The two looked around before walking towards... her! She quickly shut and locked the door. Did they spot her?

When someone jiggled the handle she nearly let out a gasp. But after about a minute the jiggling stopped. A heavily accented voice said, "I think is out of order. We're safe to talk here."

Was that Patricia? She sounded different than Betty pictured. She overheard them mumbling about the current politics and one asked the other, presumably Patricia, how the "Daniel situation" was going. Even with her ear firmly against the door, she could only make out every other word. What she did hear was that Patricia was not actually Patricia. The two sounded like they were up to no good.

When one of them said something along the lines of "_All going according to plan_." and _"Meet by the Hudson tonight" _she did let out a gasp.

The chattering stopped. For a second, Betty felt like her heart stopped along with it. When "Patricia" said that it was getting late and they should go, Betty finally let out a breath. They didn't hear her.

She looked at her watch and waited ten minutes after hearing their footseteps fade. Then she slowly opened the door and looked around. She knew something was up with Daniel's new lady! She didn't know what but at least her suspicions weren't completely irrational. Now she needed some help.

If Henry knew what she had done, he would definitely chastise her for it. She could just picture him saying that she was acting jealous, just like with Charlotte... but then again, her instincts never failed her before and at that moment her instincts were telling her that Patricia, if that is her real name, was manipulating Daniel into doing what she wanted.

She made a vow to herself, _'If I'm wrong, may Henry and Charlotte get married on a flowery hill with matching gravel wedding bands!'_

Betty let herself into Henry's office, expecting to be in for a long wait. She was quite surprised when he walked in, not ten minutes later.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

Betty gave him a nervous look, "I kind of need your help. Regarding Daniel. Consider it an emergency case. I don't know if you'll give it to me pro bono like you did for your rock girl..."

"Ah, don't worry about her," he sighed, "We broke up. Or actually, she broke up with me after I couldn't find her necklaces and earrings."

"She broke up with you over _that_?"

He looked sheepish, "I may have mistaken some little rocks in her potted plant for the missing jewelry, which apparently came off as a "big insult". And I didn't exactly make her feel better when I offered to get her some colored stones from this artistic craft store a few blocks down... I guess I'm insensitive for not knowing they were her rivals."

Betty was trying her hard to contain her smile. When Henry mentioned he accidentally called her "Charlie", she couldn't help it. Betty was laughing into her hands, a vain attempt to stifle herself.

He gave her a half smile, "Well I guess I know who _not_ to turn to next time I suffer a break up."

"I'm s-sorry," she gasped through giggles, "It's just... I knew she was dense but _wow_..." She finally managed to calm down, looking at her partner, "Are you okay? You're not really heartbroken, are you?"

Henry shook his head, "Nah. We weren't that serious anyway. And truth be told... I hated that she was upsetting you. I should've known something was up when you didn't like her. You're a great judge of character."

She smiled at him and looked down at her shoes, feeling embarrassed for the argument earlier, and for laughing at him.

"Plus, I missed you."

"Okay, okay, now you're just _trying_ to make me feel lousy," she said with a hint of red in her cheeks.

Henry smiled, "Never, kiddo. So what's the emergency case?"

She quickly shook of her embarrassment and put her game face on as she took out a a large manila folder, "Take a look at Miss Patricia. That's Daniel's newest "lady friend". They met at a big cocktail party, had some fun, and she hasn't let him out of her sight since."

While she was talking, Henry was looking over some black and white photographs of a young, light haired, petite woman, with large sunglasses, a dark grey hat, and a long black coat. In every shot she seemed to be looking away from the camera. Some shots were blurry or taken at an odd angle.

"Did you take this behind some bushes or something?" He joked.

"Actually the newspaper photographer did earlier. I owe him a favor now. Apparently she's camera shy," Betty took the photos from him and frowned at them, "Daniel is really nervous around her but when I ask him what's wrong he says it's nothing. He's been giving her alot of expensive gifts and money lately, acting like he doesn't want to upset her."

Henry looked thoughtful, "Sounds to me like it's just a relationship problem. She's got him wrapped around her finger and he's being taken for a ride. Not much I can do about that."

"No, but here's the thing - I don't think her real name is Patricia. I overheard her talking to some older woman about how everything was going "according to plan" and they would get what they were "sent to get". That lady called her 'Petra'and they were being really sneaky about their conversation. Henry, I think Daniel's got himself into a huge criminal mess and he can't get himself out of it."

"So you're thinking he's being blackmailed by this shady "Petra" into giving her all his money so she and her lackey can pull off a crime?"

"Yes! I know it sounds crazy, but Daniel doesn't scare easily and he knows his father wouldn't look kindly on him being tricked by some little blonde doll-face. We need to look into her. Find out more about this woman."

He finally agreed, "Alright. But it's going to be tough to get her records from the police without any hard evidence."

"I think I've got an idea. It might cost us but there's a guy I know who is informed about everything that goes on at MMC."

Betty grabbed her phone and called her friend, Christina, a highly regarded seamstress working for a fashion magazine in the middle of a Meade buy-out. There was alot of information and odd in-jokes that he didn't quite understand but after a while she thanked her friend and hung up.

"Christina used a favor this receptionist, Amanda, owes her to get us in touch with our informant."

"Uh, so this source knows about your boss' mystery woman...?" Henry asked.

"He should. He's really close to his boss, Wilhelmina, and he's pretty much the nosiest assistant ever."

Henry's mouth twitched and Betty quickly added, "I'm not an assistant. I'm a secretary."

"...So did you really call her 'Charlie'?" Betty was back to joking around with her partner while they were sitting in a cab.

"You put the name in my head. I couldn't help it. It's yet another strange quirk of mine. So you still haven't told me that much about this information guy."

She smiled and looked down at her papers, "Alright, the guy we need clings to gossip like his life depended on it. Umm, his name begins with an 'M'... oh! Here it is," she took out a slip of paper, "Marco."

"Like Marco Polo?"

"I thought I was the only one who thought that when I heard his name! Hope quirk number five doesn't kick in when you see him."

Henry stifled a half-groan, "I'll keep it out of mind. What's his last name?"

"Doesn't say. I guess he just goes by Marco."

"Polo," Henry coughed.

Betty heard that but chose to ignore it while hiding a smile. The cab stopped and they paid the fare before walking into the large tavern.

The tavern was family-owned by third generation Irishmen and they had a small but loyal crowd of regulars. Different liquors added color to the wooden paneling behind the bar area and a few patrons, likely blue collar workers, were eating peanuts or reading newspapers while drinking their beers. Henry walked up to the red haired bartender and informed him that he was a private detective looking for someone.

"Well I know all my regulars but let me see if I can find him," he called out, "Marco!"

"Polo!" Came the quiet, unanimous response from the private eye and his partner. The bartender just stared at them as if they were crazy while they laughed.

"Uh, we'll just wait a bit in case he comes in, if that's alright," Henry said pleasantly. The bartender consented and went to tend to a customer.

The two turned around and checked out the bar scene, Betty doing most of the checking since she knew what their informer looked like. She quickly spotted a well-dressed man stepping out of the restroom in the corner, and nudging her partner, the two watched as he tried to chat up two sailors with little success. Henry just raised an eyebrow but said nothing when the two sailors got up and left.

Their informant was wearing a canary yellow shirt, black pants, shined black shoes and a yellow fedora. In the casually dressed bar crowd, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Betty grabbed Henry and the two quickly joined him at the currently empty table.

"Can we talk," Betty stood in front of him, "I work for Daniel Meade."

"I know that. I know everyone and everything that goes on in Meade Media Corp. You're Danny-boy's personal secretary. Surprised he chose someone who looks like... well you."

She frowned, "There's nothing wrong with how I look, and I'm very good at my job. Besides, I'm here because I need information on her," she pulled out the envelope of Petra's photos and handed it to the curly haired, rumor enthusiast.

"Oh, I see. You want to get in good with your boss. Well, I don't think he'll give you a raise even if you _do_ manage to get him out of her well-manicured clutches."

Henry finally spoke up, "Look, sir, we're just doing a job here. An investigation on a woman who we have reason to believe is not who she says she is. Now are you going to help us or not?"

"I don't even know you."

Henry stuck out his hand with professionalism, "Detective Henry. Self-made private eye."

He just looked down at the detectives hand and with an air of self-importance introduced himself, "The name's Marco."

"Polo," Betty cheekily whispered to Henry. She was in a playful mood, knowing just how to push his buttons. Their informant gave her a sharp look but said nothing more.

"Anyway, since you know about everyone and everything at the Meade building, maybe you have some information on the woman Daniel Meade is dating," Henry reasoned while Marco looked over the photos briefly.

"Of course I do. A dear friend of a friend just may know some things about this girl's past but it's going to cost you."

"How much?"

He looked him up and down, "A hundred."

"Dollars!?"

"Cash. Come on, you want this information or not?"

"I'll cover it," Betty reached into her purse and pulled out some money. She had obviously expected this and came prepared. Well, not completely prepared.

"I only have seventy. How about I pay you the rest next week? I mean, we do work in the same building..."

"No deal, missy."

"Hey," Henry protested, "We don't even know if your information is worth a hundred bucks. From what I hear, you've got nothing but rumors. How do I know what you tell me is even the truth?"

Marco breathed in sharply, looking briefly offended, before grabbing the bills from Betty and speaking up, "This is what seventy will get you: she got a job at the Grand Hotel to get into the lavish parties. She's tried to fleece Rockefeller, LaGuardia, Elvis, you name it, she's tried it - and even had some degree of success. It wasn't until she met Daniel that she finally got the pigeon she was after. There's a possibility she's not a legal American and she has a partner, posing as her older sister, who are trying to get enough money to buy secret..."

Betty and Henry looked on, waiting for him to finish, "Secret _what_?"

"Thirty more dollars, please."

"Oh come on, Marco!"

"Polo," Henry mumbled, causing her to lose composure. Betty's giggles were back.

"Okay, I heard that! You think it's funny? Marco, Polo, Marco, Polo! I could've been traumatized as a child, nearly drowned because some kids played that stupid game and thought it would be funny to keep saying it over and over until I tuned them out, which worked to my disadvantage when I didn't hear them warn me about the slippery deck..."

Betty gaped at him, "Oh my God, did that really happen?"

"No. But it _could have_. Just think about it next time you do your stupid shenanigans."

Henry just gave him a look, "Fine. I think we have what we're looking for. Good day, _Marco_."

Two seconds later, half the bar responded with a loud _"Polo"_.Betty simply laughed at Marco's look of dismay while Henry ushered her out of the bar.

"Now I know how to bother him next time I see him at work! Looks like your quirkiness is rubbing off," she said breathlessly.

"I don't know. Sometimes I think you're rubbing off on me more than I am on you," he reddened visibly as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

His partner didn't seem to notice, "Well, now we officially have a little in-joke. How great is that?"

Connections with the police and lab technicians were necessary for detectives who've exhausted all other means of trying to solve a crime. Where tough guy attitude failed, science would succeed. Pulling some strings and asking many a favor, he had a small private lab run a background check on this Petra character and when he finally got the results, he was stunned.

"According to this, Petra was born twenty two years ago in Moscow, Russia, emigrating here on a work visa from Poland. She has an uncle who got her a job at the Grand Hotel and she lives in a small room there. Not much on her, no driver's license, no credit cards, just a passport and her birth certificate. And get this," he looked up at his partner with wide eyes, "In the last two years she's had at least seven different aliases: Patty, Patsy, Penny, Paula, Paullina, Patri, and most recently Patricia."

"Henry, are you saying...?"

"I think it's a big possibility that this Petra character is doing some undercover work for her country. She's a... a..."

"A commie?"

Henry looked at his partner blankly, "I was actually going to say a spy from the Soviet Union. Or Russia, as it's now known."

"Sorry. I watch my fair share of detective movies too," she looked sheepish.

"Alright, so far we've got a lot of possible evidence that she's planning something bad and Daniel's in the middle of it. But we don't have anything concrete."

Betty frowned looking at her watch for a minute before looking back at the detective.

"I have to go."

"Where are you going?"

"I'll explain later," she grabbed her coat and dashed out of his office leaving him confused. Should he follow her? He leaned out his window and watched as she waved over a cab and left quickly. He tried to think about what they said before she suddenly got up and left. They simply talked about their evidence and how they needed something circumstantial to help Daniel.

Realization hit him like a ton of bricks. She was going to find herself some solid evidence and she was going to do it in a reckless way that would endanger their case and herself. He quickly got up and hailed a cab of his own, hoping he wasn't too late...

... Meanwhile, Betty recalled a key detail from the suspicious conversation in the lobby hours earlier. They were planning on meeting up somewhere by the Hudson river, late at night, and she had conveniently forgotten to tell Henry about it back in the office before making her hasty retreat.

"He wants evidence? I'll get him the evidence..." she muttered to herself as she awkwardly pulled up under the bridge and looked around.

She had taken the cab to Daniel's office and found another mode of transportation to get to where she needed to go. Despite only driving a stick once in her life, she managed to make it to the meeting place in about two hours. It was ten at night and there was little visibility save for a few streetlights here and there. The dark skies and the cold wind kept her inside the car while she waited in silence. A sort of ominous quiet permeated the air, something she didn't dare disturb for fear of being found out, whether from policemen or worse.

Betty didn't know when she dozed off, she just knew that something woke her up. Perhaps a sound or a light. In any case, she straightened up in her seat and looked around. There was a crescent moon out, barely providing light. She glanced at her watch; it was a quarter to eleven and there was no one near the river except for her. She felt like a fool and just as she started to turn the key on the ignition, she spotted two small figures in the distance far off to the left. The were walking towards the river and they didn't seem to pay much attention to the car behind the bushes. Thank goodness the streetlamp above her was broken. She slowly got out of the car and watched as they stopped a few feet ahead of her, speaking in what she assumed was Russian and looking down at a bag in Petra's hand.

If only she could get closer to hear what they were saying.

About a mile above them, a certain private eye was walking the pedestrian bridge across the Hudson river. His knowledge of mystery novels, detective films, and his trusty Dick Tracy comics had led him to every cliché meeting place in the greater metropolitan area. While he knew it was a case of a needle in a haystack – maybe they were at one of the places he visited earlier – he had to keep looking. His partner was going out on a limb for her boss and now he was doing the same for her.

He should've worn more comfortable shoes.

Henry had crossed to the other side of the bridge and was gazing back toward the skyscrapers behind him. By chance he looked down and spotted a familiar white car where it shouldn't have been.

_'Maybe two lovers trying to find some privacy by the river,'_ he thought to himself.

But something told him to stop and take a closer look. The expensive looking white Ford - hadn't he seen it somewhere before? His feet were unsteady as he looked over and saw two sinister shadows, one looking very much like the Petra woman in the photos, by the Hudson river. In a flash, his worst fears were realized when he saw a third shadow, one he could certainly identify, a few feet away behind the car.

"Thank you, cliché meeting places," he breathed as he looked down and adjusted his glasses.

From his height he could see Betty inching closer to the two women, trying to hear what they were saying. He didn't know if they could see her as easily as he had but if she got any closer he knew they would sense something was up. These were experts, right? They should know how to spot intruders.

He couldn't help the cry of alarm that sprang from his lips, something he immediately regretted as all attention was on him now. The two shadows looked up but thankfully rushed off, leaving the two partners stunned and more than a little scared. Quickly rushing down the bridge, and with some difficulty making his way to the grassy area, he was finally beside her. He checked to see if she was okay.

"Betty!"

"What are you doing here? Why did you yell?"

"I thought they spotted you! What were you thinking coming out here alone in the dead of night with no protection?"

"I... I just wanted to know what they were planning. I wasn't trying to get caught or anything. How did you find me?"

"Luck was on my side. And I think I've been to every major bridge, alleyway, and warehouse in this city."

"Wow. You just walked around until you found me?"

"Taxi took me to half the places but after I exhausted my wallet, I put my loafers to good use and now I'm tired." He breathed a huge sigh and leaned against the car she was using for cover.

"I'm sorry," she leaned down next to him and gave him an apologetic smile, "I would've asked you to come along but I knew you'd try and stop me."

"You're brave, kiddo. I'll give you that," he managed a small smile.

"I heard them. Petra and that woman are gathering money to buy some kind of plans from the black market. Possibly government plans to take with them back home. This is big. Bigger than we could've ever imagined!"

"You sure?"

"Positive! They had a briefcase with them. I didn't get a good look at it... I think it was brown with gold buckles."

"This your car?"

"Huh?" Betty looked at the white car they were leaning on, "Actually it's Daniel's. I sort of borrowed it."

"I _thought _I recognized it," he mused, "I didn't know you could drive."

"Well let's just say I'm I avoided some narrow misses and luck was on my side too considering I didn't run into any cops. But if I did, I would've mentioned your name. Maybe gotten off with a warning.

He chuckled softly, "Glad I can help. We should get going. It's pretty late"

"Yeah, okay," she let him grab her arm and help her up. The two slowly made their way inside the car and drove off in silence, wondering what their next move would be.

First thing in the morning and Betty met up with Henry to confront Daniel. They called him beforehand and hinted that they knew something was going on. He stuttered and argued before Betty told him everything they knew. That stunned him. He knew Petra was using his money for something illegal, fear of being arrested as an accomplice kept him from telling anyone, but he never knew it was what she was doing was so... huge. Felony huge. The part of Daniel that had initially been angry at them for sticking their noses where it didn't belong all but disapperead as he readily accepetd their help.

Betty assured him she would bring Henry to Meade Corp and figure things out from there. Because of the traffic, they got to the office about an hour later than they promised but hopefully he would understand.

The two partners walked into the large building and quickly opening the office door, Betty started to explain their case, "Daniel, I think the best way to handle-"

The two were surprised to see, not the eager face of Daniel Meade, but the calm and collected expression of Wilhelmina Slater. She was sitting in Daniel's chair. In Daniel's office. Betty could feel her muscles tense. This woman had no right to be there.

With her hands on her lap and her voice even, she said, "Isn't this a surprise. How nice to see you again, detective. And Betty... well you seem like you have some important news."

"It's news for _Daniel_. Where is he?"

"He's taking an early break. You know how he is. Never can sit still in one spot for too long."

"You're lying," she frowned, "He was expecting me. I need to talk to him about the girl he's seeing."

"You mean Patricia? Or should I say Petra" She smiled at the two surprised heroes, looking like she made an unexpected winning move in some twisted chess game.

"You knew about this?"

"Of course," she shrugged nonchalantly, "How do you think Marco knew?"

"Polo."

"What?"

"Impulse. Sorry."

She gave the detective a weird look before continuing, "I don't know why you're always trying so hard to protect your boss. He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

"Wilhelmina, this isn't some little problem that's going to go away. He's aiding and abetting a criminal spy! From Russia!"

"That's practically treason," Henry added.

"Well he was the one who was stupid enough to find her accent "charming". With him gone, a more deserving person can take his position."

"You?"

"I'm not cruel," she rose from the chair, her height menacing, "If you worry that with him in jail you'll be out of a job, you can rest easy. I'm sure I can find _something_ for you to do when I become the head of Meade Media."

Betty looked right up at her, her voice as steady as she could muster, "I'm not going to work for you, Wilhelmina. And I am going to help Daniel."

"Well that's a shame. You know, unlike that unpatriotic commie supporter, I love my country. Which is why I called the police and told them everything I knew about Petra."

Her eyes grew wide, "You didn't!"

"Do I look like I'm lying?"

Betty whirled around and ran out of the room, quickly followed by a quiet Henry. Wilhelmina just cackled as she watched the two run off. Their time had run out.

"Daniel! Are you here? Daniel!"

The mystery solving pair had been running around the building searching for Daniel Meade. They didn't even get through half the floors before they heard sirens. Betty quickly rushed downstairs, somehow having missed her boss in all the criss-crossings she did of the building; but not anymore. He was there, and he was not happy.

"Betty, what's happening?"

She watched as two officers were grabbing Daniel by the shoulder and slapping cuffs on him right in the lobby where everyone could see. He sounded scared, his eyes wide in confusion.

She called out, "Officers, wait, please. You're making a mistake!"

"We've been given a tip that this man has been giving money to some Russian spies that have been buying leaked government files. The FBI is on its way over."

"FBI?" If Daniel was scared before, now he looked terrified, "But I didn't know she was using the money for government crimes! I swear, I love Uncle Sam. And the bald eagle is, um, the best bird ever."

"Maybe he can confess to what he knows and get off on a plea bargain," the young detective said.

"Henry!"

"Just a thought..."

"Daniel, where is she? Maybe if we trick her here-"

"She said she was coming at ten. I was going to tell her it was over between us after we figured out a plan about all this," he frowned pitifully, "I guess it's too late for that."

Betty looked at her watch and realized they didn't have much time until she arrived. Turning to the officers and putting on her best pleading face she asked them to take Daniel outside and hide him from view. She would get them the two real bad guys (or in this case, bad girls) and clear up the whole mess. The officers were wary of this "plan" but Henry was quick to her defense, showing his credentials and assuring them they would have their criminals and even be hailed as heroes.

"You got ten minutes before we haul this guy down to the station," the lead cop said as he escorted Daniel outside. Not two minutes passed before Petra and her accomplice arrived, thankfully not running into Daniel on the way in.

Betty plastered a fake smile as she walked to greet them, "Hi, who's your companion? A sister, perhaps?"

"Lena," the older woman introduced herself stiffly.

Petra frowned, "Why are police here?"

"There's been an accident, umm, the twelfth floor a woman... was uh..."

"Attacked by her evil twin sister looking for revenge after she stole her husband," Henry ventured.

Betty turned and gave him an odd look. He simply shrugged and the two women seemed to buy the story. They waited for the elevator to come down while Betty tried to get a good look at a certain bag Petra was holding.

"That's the bag," she finally confirmed with Henry as the two elevator got closer to the ground floor, "That's the brown one with the gold buckles!"

He looked it over and frowned, "Why would they bring the evidence with them?"

"Maybe they were scared last night. Thought that their documents would be safer in their possession."

"I don't know..."

"Just trust me on this," Betty pleaded. Henry just nodded and looked up as the two woman eyed them suspiciously.

Petra spoke first, "Where is Daniel?"

"He'll join us in his office," Betty made her way towards the young blonde, while Henry watched the older one. She saw Petra tightening her grip on the briefcase and knew it was exactly what she needed to exonerate Daniel. The two woman seemed to notice that Betty was getting closer to the briefcase and they got into a defensive stance.

Henry, ever quick to help, said the first thing that came into mind, "You know the woman on the twelfth floor actually needed stitches after what happened to her." Just like on the bridge, he was once again drawing their focus away from Betty and onto him. "No one even realized what was going on until they saw the two twin sisters, one with a stapler and the other trying to shield herself with an accounting book. I think the evil one was named Erika Kane..."

It was working. His babbling had the two women giving him strange looks, their attention off the briefcase. The elevator doors opening was just what Betty needed to make her move. She grabbed Petra's bag and tossed it to Henry who fumbled a bit before catching it. He was never good at sports but this was one pass he couldn't mess up.

He dashed full speed across the lobby with Petra and Lena right behind him. Betty was yelling for security while Henry got closer and closer to the exit. He didn't know if they even made their little ten minute deadline but he'd be damned if he was letting them get the briefcase, whether the cops were around or not.

The marble floors were tricky to maneuver and he almost slipped when he crossed a freshly mopped area, but luckily he caught his balance and made it out while Lena tumbled down in her clunky heels.

"Get back here!" Petra screeched, a few feet behind him.

He finally reached the cops outside, relieved they had stayed true to their word. He must've just gotten there in the nick of time because they were getting into their cars when he rushed out.

"Wait!"

The two officers turned and watched the bespectacled detective huff and puff while holding out the brown briefcase, "Here... I don't know... what's inside... but I hope... it helps."

One of the men opened the suitcase with a little force and took put a manila folder, his eyes growing wide, "Well whad'dya know. Got some military-grade weaponry blueprints here." They faced a surprised Petra who finally caught up to the red faced detective.

Besides the blueprints, the officers quickly found several documents with her full name and photograph, stating her as a "special agent to mother Russia". The papers all but screamed "guilty".

"What is wrong?" She looked at them innocently.

With a quick nod from Henry, the officer who had the incriminating evidence walked over and cuffed the blonde, "Ms. Petra, you're under arrest..."

"Yes!" Daniel cried out happily from inside the car as they read Petra her rights.

Betty finally made her way downstairs, two security guards holding onto the other accomplice. She looked pleased. The officers let Daniel out of the backseat, un-cuffing him and setting him on his way, before turning their attention to the two Russian spies who were feverently blaming each other for all the crimes.

Daniel Meade was only too happy to get back into the lobby. Once inside he looked at the two heroes and smiled, "Thank you. I didn't think anyone would believe me about her but I should've known you two would."

Henry clarified, "Actually it was Betty who-"

"It doesn't matter," Betty cut him off, "I'm just glad you're not guilty. And maybe next time you'll be more careful about the types of girls you take home with you."

He laughed and held up his hand, as if taking an oath, "I learned my lesson. You can definitely have longer vacation time if you want, Betty."

"How about longer vacation time and more flexible hours?" She propositioned. Daniel readily agreed. The detective and his partner watched as he got into the elevator and headed upstairs to his office.

"So what about the Wilhelmina thing?"

Betty sighed, "We don't really have much evidence on her. Think she carries around a briefcase detailing her crimes, including pictures and handwritten statements?"

Henry chuckled, "No, she's not that stupid."

"Right. Anyway, she won't do anything for now but I think she'll keep us on our toes."

He nodded giving her an impressed smile, "You took a pretty big risk, you know. And I don't just mean the unofficial stakeout at the Hudson river. There was a pretty big chance that the briefcase was filled with nothing but hotel paperwork and maybe an address book."

"Yeah, I know. But I had to go with my instincts, and I know it's crazy and completely different from what you would do-"

Henry interrupted her, "But that's what I admire about you. You'd do anything for the people you care about. And I have to admit, it was kind of thrilling rushing down the lobby with that briefcase in hand. You make me feel like a true Dick Tracy."

"Glad I can help," she mirrored his laugh from last night, at the Hudson river.

As the two walked out of the towering building, his hand on her shoulder, and her eyes looking straight ahead, he spoke up, the happiness evident in his tone, "Vacation time and flexible hours, huh? Does that mean I'll be seeing you around my office more often, kiddo?"

Betty looked over at him and grinned, "As long as you'll put up with me, detective."

The two walked off amidst the white and blue police cars, their red flashing lights, clouds of black exhaust and intrigued onlookers. Betty never imagined something so sinister could be brewing in her little Meade office but in the gritty streets of New York one had to take the surprises in stride. She knew there would be more adventures for the two investigators and she was sure she could face them with Henry at her side...

"...The End."

"Wow. Great story, Aunt Betty. Sounded like a real mystery thriller!"

"Really? Thanks."

In the confines of her room, Betty had penned a little fictional story about a week after the whole Petra-gate disaster. It was her way of dealing with the events in a constructive way while keeping her writing hand from getting rusty. When Justin walked in and spotted her writing, his curiosity prompted her to share it with him and now his encouragement made her glad she did so.

"You sending that into Mode?"

"Huh? Oh, no," Betty looked down at her writing, "I haven't been asked to write anything for them. But it doesn't mean I have to stop writing."

Justin nodded, "So did that stuff actually happen to you?"

"Not exactly. If it did I'd be pretty happy about the Henry thing," she sighed and put her hand against her chin in exasperation.

"Oh yeah. Well maybe he'll break up with her soon."

"Maybe. You're not going to tell Hilda about this, are you?" She looked nervous.

"Not if you don't want me to," he said understanding, "Good night, Aunt Betty."

"Night Justin," she called out as he left her room. Looking down at her paper she had a feeling that Henry might just follow her detective's lead. It would take a bit longer but she had faith in him. She would trust her instincts.

_And of course her instincts would be well-founded because he does break up with Charlie. But not before the whole pregnancy thing and the complications that follow. Darn. Hopefully this explains a few things from my previous film-noir style fic; I wanted to explain the Marco Polo thing in this one! If you liked this, leave a review. If you didn't like it leave a review. Either way I read all criticism, good or bad. Thanks for reading!_


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